But Tavia only laughed more heartily. She declared he could not have been drowned; of course it was wet and cold and muddy —
"And he might have fallen, and not have been able to get to his feet again," remarked Dorothy, with apprehension. "I am awfully afraid of mysterious accidents; and who can tell what is at the bottom of a spring?"
"For expert testimony," replied Nat, "apply to Nathaniel White, Esquire. He is in every way qualified – Oh, I say, my knee! Ouch! Can't move it," and he winced in pain.
"Let me get there," insisted Ned, "you may take a kink somewhere and make us turn turtle. Besides you will not get so much breeze back here."
Nat was easily persuaded now, for the fact was he did not feel at all comfortable – the mud bath was getting in its work, – so the machine was stopped while he got in the tonneau and his brother took the place at the wheel.
"Put this dust robe around you," ordered Dorothy. "You may miss your coat in spite of the day, for the wind is sharp when we cut through the air this way. I do hope you will not be ill – "
"Never! That race Mrs. Hardy gave me, or made me take, saved my life. But it's pleasant to change seats. Ned will get a lot of laughs from Tavia, and I will enjoy a chance to talk with you."
So the little party dashed along, until a turn in the road brought a row of houses into view, and presently, among them, could be seen a sign that indicated eatables were for sale there. Both girls and boys went in to do the buying – so keen were their appetites now that each preferred to do his or her own selecting. Tavia wanted buns, cheese and pickles. Nat had cheese, rye bread and butter (he bought a quarter of a pound) and besides he found, on the very tip top shelf, some glass jars of boneless herring.
"Let's make a regular camp dinner," suggested Ned. "Buy some potatoes and sliced bacon, make tea or coffee – "
"In what?" asked Dorothy.
"Oh, yes, that's so. We did not bring the lunch basket. By the way, you have not seen the basket mother received for her birthday. It has everything for a lunch on the road; a lamp to cook over, tea and coffee pot, enameled cups, plates, good sharp knives – the neatest things, all in a small basket. Mother never lets us take it out, when we're alone. She thinks so much of it."
"I should think she would," remarked Dorothy. "But we were speaking of a camp lunch – "
"Yes, let's," joined in Nat. "It's no end of fun, roasting potatoes in a stone furnace."
"And toasting bacon on hat pins," suggested Tavia.
So it was agreed the camp lunch should be their meal, Dorothy and Ned doing most of the work of buying and finding things fresh enough to eat in the old-fashioned dusty store, while Tavia and Nat tasted pickles and tried buns, until Dorothy interposed, declaring if either ate another mouthful before the real meal was ready they would not be allowed a single warm morsel.
"Just one potato," pleaded Nat. "I do so love burnt potatoes."
"And a single slice of bacon," urged Tavia. "I haven't had that kind of bacon since we were out at the Cedars, and I think it is so delicious."
"Then save your appetites," insisted Dorothy, "and help with the work. No looking for fresh spring water this time. Nat, carry this bottle of milk. Ned has paid for the bottle and all, so we will not have to come back with the jar."
The paper bundles were finally put into the car, and then, turning back to the woodland road, it was not difficult to find a place suitable to build the camp-fire, and set table on a big stump of a newly-felled tree that Tavia said made her more hungry than ever, for the chips smelt like vinegar and molasses, she declared.
So pleasant was the camp life our friends had embarked upon, they did not notice how far the afternoon was getting away from them, and before they had any inclination to start out on the road again, the sun had rolled itself up into a big red ball, and was sinking down behind the hills.
"Oh, it may be dark before we get back to Dalton," said Dorothy in alarm. "We should have started an hour ago."
"But the potatoes were not done," Tavia reminded her, "and we never could have left without eating them after carrying cords and cords of wood to the oven."
"Get aboard," called Nat, "I'll take the wheel now, Ned. I'm entirely thawed out."
It had certainly been a delightful day, even the accident at the spring was now merely an event to laugh at, while the meal on the big chestnut stump, beside the camp-fire, had been so enjoyable, and now, all that remained was the pleasant ride home. That is all that appeared to remain, but automobile rides, like chickens, should not be counted until all is over, and the machine is safely put up for the night. Chickens have the same tendency as have autos toward surprises – and disappointments.
"There's a hill," remarked Ned, quite unnecessarily, as a long stretch of brown road seemed to bound up in front of them.
"A nice climb," acquiesced Nat. "Now, Birdy, be good. Straight ahead. No flunking now – steady," and he "coaxed" the machine into a slow, even run, that became more and more irksome as the grade swelled.
"But when we get at the top?" asked Tavia.
"We will not stay there long," answered Nat, "for if there is one thing this machine likes to do it is to coast down hill."
The Fire-Bird made its way up the steep grade, and presently, as Nat predicted, turned the hill-crest and "flew" down the other side.
The swiftness of the motion made conversation impossible, for the machine was coasting, the power being off, and surely the Fire-Bird was "flying through the air."
Reaching the level stretch again, Nat threw in the clutch, but a grinding and clanking noise answered his movement of the lever.
"Hello!" called Ned from the rear. "Busted!"
"Something wrong," agreed Ned, looking at the spark and gasoline controllers.
Presently, as the boys expected, the machine slowed up, and then came to a stop.
Both were out at once, and they examined the mechanism together.
"It's the leather facings on the friction clutch," declared Ned. "See that one worn off?"
"Guess that's right," answered Ned. "Well, now for a horse."
"I sold my wheel for an automobile; Get a horse! Get a horse!" sang Tavia, while she and Dorothy climbed out to join the inspection committee.
"Is it bad?" asked Dorothy.
"Bad enough to stall us until we can get it fixed up somewhere," said Ned. "We'll have to take part of the clutch out," and he proceeded to do so.
"Yes, we cannot move until we get a new leather on here," added Nat. "I wonder how far we might be from a blacksmith shop."
"A couple of miles," answered Tavia. "I have often been through this woods."
"Then I suppose," went on Ned, rather dolefully, "there is nothing to be done but 'hike' to the shop."
"You go and I'll stay and take care of the girls," suggested Nat.
"Oh, both go," chimed in Tavia. "You will get back sooner, and you may have some trouble getting it fixed at the shop, for I have been there and I know the man is as deaf as a post and – other things," she finished vaguely. "There is a house just across the fields there and we are not the least bit afraid – "
"If it will hurry the work you had best both go," Dorothy added. "As Tavia says, there is a house in sight, and we could run there if anything came along to scare us."
"Well, trot along Nat," commanded Ned, as he took up the piece of the clutch. "This is sure your busy day. I'll race you to the bend to make good time, and I assure you, young ladies, we will not be one moment longer than necessary away from you."
"We are so very fond of you," joked Nat, "that every moment will be unto us an hour – "
"Oh, come, quit your nonsense,